


Big Game

by Esselle



Series: BDH [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Christmas Music, Crosspost from tumblr, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-16 13:55:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esselle/pseuds/Esselle
Summary: 'The Christmas show is one of the biggest events the club holds during the year, and the energy radiating from the audience is tangible. Of course, they save the main event for last—they're all good and warmed up, now, and it's time to get the competition rolling."Gotta hand it to you for making it this far," Hinata says, thumping a hand against Kageyama's bare back.'--Kageyama issues Hinata a bold Christmas challenge.





	Big Game

It's sitting in a private booth at the back of a bar that the challenge is issued. The rest of the group is already out on the floor dancing—it's a rare opportunity that they pass up the chance to show off when they're not getting paid to do it. Kageyama had been sure Hinata would be the first one to abandon drinking for dancing but… he's still there. Like it's more interesting to sit and talk with Kageyama, for some reason.

Also for some reason, this makes Kageyama drink a lot. Possibly too much. Which leads to him saying really stupid shit. Shit that has Hinata raising his eyebrows and asking,

"Coy? _You?"_

Hinata leans back in his seat like he's just been told the most amusing joke in the world, and dealt a devastating trump card, in one fell swoop.

Kageyama scowls. "I can be coy."

The other man laughs out loud. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"Oh, you're gonna see it," Kageyama hisses. "In December. At the Christmas show."

"Yeah?" Hinata grins. "What's your grand plan for getting good enough in less than a month?" He rests his chin on his hands innocently, knowing he's got Kageyama cornered.

"Easy," Kageyama says. "I'm me."

Hinata's grin turns dangerous. "Confident. That's what I've been wanting to see." He hums, like he's contemplating something. "So, say you get your way, you show off your little routine, you go up against _me._ You, obviously, lose."

 _"Obviously_ —hey!"

Hinata sits back from stealing the cherry right out of Kageyama's drink, popping it into his mouth victoriously, stem and all.

"I was saving that," Kageyama mutters.

"What," Hinata says, ignoring him, "do I get? For kicking your sorry ass all the way back into the practice room?"

"I'm not going to lose," Kageyama says, seething.

"I think I get to choreograph your next routine," Hinata says slyly.

Kageyama gapes at him. "What?! Hang on, I didn't even agree—"

"You seem nervous," Hinata says, inspecting his nails, looking very bored. "Like you're afraid I'm going to win? Maybe?"

"Fucking fine," Kageyama snaps. He is _not_ going to lose to Hinata. Never mind the amount of experience Hinata has over him… and the charisma… and the audience loyalty…

Hinata's eyes light up, and Kageyama feels a very strong and sudden sense of foreboding.

"It wouldn't be that bad, Tobio," Hinata tells him, fingers dancing around the edges of his smiling lips. Kageyama swallows, hard, not quite able to stop himself from staring. "I've thought… long and hard about how to make you look good once I finally get you naked." He grins into his drink. "Oops—almost naked, I mean. Slip of the tongue."

Said tongue darts out to show Kageyama the remnants of the stem from the cherry he stole, tied in a neat little knot. Hinata beams at him.

 _Fuck,_ Kageyama thinks, because he can already feel himself falling hard for this treacherously sweet honey trap. He goes for broke.

"When I win," he says out loud, and Hinata looks thrilled. "When I win, you have to give me a… one of your private shows. Free of charge."

"Those are _expensive,_ you know," Hinata says. "But you definitely could stand to watch how it's done—"

"You'll do the whole show naked."

Hinata's mouth falls open, and for just a moment, a brief second, Kageyama thinks he has the upper hand.

Then Hinata holds out his hand. "Deal," he says.

Kageyama blinks. He extends his own hand, grips Hinata's and shakes on it.

Hinata yanks him forward, so suddenly Kageyama nearly topples into his lap. Hinata leans in close to him, lips warm against his ear.

"I'm so _tempted_ to let you win…" he purrs, and Kageyama almost chokes. His pants feel suddenly and uncomfortably tight.

Hinata pulls away like nothing happened, drains his drink and smacks his lips.

"Okay, now that's decided!" He jumps up from the booth. "Time to go dance, come on."

Kageyama has little choice but to let himself be dragged along behind the small orange whirlwind.

*

The Christmas show is one of the biggest events the club holds during the year, and the energy radiating from the audience is tangible. Of course, they save the main event for last—they're all good and warmed up, now, and it's time to get the competition rolling.

"Gotta hand it to you for making it this far," Hinata says, thumping a hand against Kageyama's bare back.

His palm is hot against Kageyama's slick skin—sweat, mixed in with that spray-on oil shit they use to make all the dancers' muscles gleam. Kageyama would have scoffed at the obvious money-making tactic before, but now he's seen what it looks like when Hinata strips off his shirt under the stage lights. He can't really fault the logic.

"You don't have to hand me anything," Kageyama says, stretching his arms above his head. "Just your clothes. After I win."

Hinata smiles up at him. "How fast, exactly, are you expecting me to get naked _if_ —and… that's a big if—you win?"

"As fast as possible?" Kageyama ventures, wondering if he's pushing his luck. Judging by the gleam in Hinata's eye, he doesn't think so.

"We'll have just finished a two hour show at that point," Hinata reminds him.

Kageyama can hear them getting ready to bring him on stage. He shrugs at Hinata. "Stamina's important. You talk a big game, so I'm just curious."

Hinata looks like he wants to take a bite out of him, and Kageyama isn't sure whether it's in a good way or bad. Conveniently, he has an out, and he ducks onto the darkened stage as he hears his himself being announced as the "King".

The first slow music box notes start to spin from the speakers. It's a different kind of "Santa Baby", that's for sure, melancholy, ethereal, moody. Nothing like the boppy, upbeat versions everyone else has danced to so far. And tonight, Kageyama is markedly different, too.

He's not nervous. But he does have some reservations to shake off. The problem is, Hinata was right. Kageyama doesn't do coy, he doesn't bat his eyelashes and smile shyly while he opens his legs, that is solidly Hinata's specialty.

But vulnerable, he can manage. If only because he remembers what it's like to feel that way.

He's used to skipping over the whole "stripping" part, despite the fact that he is, technically, a stripper. The thrill of pole work is what gets him, not the whole game that comes before, and he's always put forth the barest minimum of effort into that area, shirt torn off over his head, pants shoved down as he stalks across the stage to do his routine.

Tonight, he gets on his knees.

He never gets many cheers, because his routines just don't usually call them up. He doesn't run onstage like a showpiece, he moves like a work of art, and people watch and observe. When he slides a slow hand down, eyes closed, over his cheek, fingers catching in his mouth, dragging his bottom lip down, there's no shouts or shrieks from the crowd.

There's just a rapt, breath-stealing silence. He can snatch them up in the palm of his hand his own way, at his own pace.

He glides his fingers over his neck, his throat, sliding down his chest and stomach, until he can finally hook his thumb under the bottom of his shirt, peel it off like it's been molded to him, inches at a time. He moves agonizingly slow, pulling it off over his head to toss off to the side.

He slides forward, down onto his hands, body curving, fluid, catlike, before he turns over, onto his back. He does hear a few, scattered gasps as he slips a hand into his pants, hips and back arching high off the ground as he rolls them, long and hard. And he knows Hinata is watching—knows what he looks like, what he's promising.

He'd be a good ride, that much is shamelessly obvious. Or he'd feel fucking incredible, working his hips over Hinata's dick, and he knows Hinata is thinking about that, too.

He does get on the pole, eventually—after he's worked his pants off his hips, to reveal a pair of tiny, snow-white briefs that hide approximately nothing. They do have rhinestones on them, not something he's into normally, but they fit him like a second skin. He agreed to them because they're another clear departure from his usual all-black ensemble. And because they make his ass look good enough to eat, which is not something he's opposed to.

 _You think you know what I can do?_ He wishes he could glance over to the backstage area, but he ignores it, instead. _Think again._

His pole routine is flawless as usual, sultry and complex, though he makes it look effortless. And that's the key, really, to what he's trying to accomplish. Make them feel like he can make a mess of them in bed and then leave, without so much as a backwards glance.

They're silent while he performs, but when he's finished—when he finally leaves the stage, the applause that thunders after him sounds like it could be enough to bring the building down.

Someone hands him a towel when he steps off stage, hidden behind the curtains, and he wipes his face.

"Rhinestones look good on you," someone says. "That's… not something I would have assumed."

He raises his face from the towel to see Hinata's eyes all over him.

"Why do you look so happy?" Kageyama asks. "You hear that?" He jerks his head toward the stage.

"Oh." Hinata's smile widens. "Oh, you think you won already."

"Sounds like it," Kageyama says. They're announcing Hinata now, and he actually jogs excitedly in place, beaming at Kageyama.

"We'll see!" he says, waving at Kageyama, before the emcee shouts _"Give it up for the Small Giant!"_ and then he's bounding out on stage.

A _blare_ of trumpets and stage lights blasts over the stage. Hinata's song is the polar opposite of Kageyama's—ritzy, burlesque, brazen and bold, and, yes, _coy,_ in the husky, lush vocals.

The difference in the two of them is that Kageyama is just a baby in this industry, and he still pushes everyone away—he makes people drool over him without ever making it seem like they can have him.

But Hinata… Hinata rocks and sways his lithe little body, in seconds he's down to the _tiniest_ pair of firetruck red panties in existence, but still manages to keep everyone hooked on his performance, even when he's giving it all away like candy. Hinata struts down the steps offstage into the crowd, dances with people— _on_ people, has no problem climbing on a chair and getting absolutely filthy with strangers.

Hinata is out of everyone's league—but he lets everyone feel like they can look _and_ touch.

The thing is that Kageyama is a late arrival, has no say in the matter, _knows_ all of this but—he wants to be the one to look and touch. Just him.

When Hinata leaves the crowd to dominate the stage once again, his aerial routine makes a mockery of both gravity and the limits of human flexibility, reckless gymnastics mixed with mouthwatering sex appeal. He blows the stage _up,_ and Kageyama knows he's lost. He can't stop staring at Hinata's smile and the way it lights up his eyes, and he knows he's totally, utterly lost.

The crowd is still screaming when Hinata finally makes his way backstage. Kageyama doesn't hide away from him, even though he knows Hinata won the crowd, won the round, without a doubt. They still have one last ensemble performance to go out for, anyway.

"Well?" Hinata says, coming to sit next to him, sweat still beading on his forehead, slipping down his shoulders.

"You're the favorite," Kageyama says, a bit petulantly. "I still killed it."

Hinata stretches and sighs. "You did, yeah. But you're never going to win, if you don't make them feel like you want them."

Kageyama shakes his head. "I _don't."_

"What do you want, then?" Hinata turns his stare on him, questioning and shrewd. "You looked like you wanted _something_ out there."

Kageyama turns to look at him. Just looks, stares at him, willingly trapping himself in the glow of Hinata's warm eyes.

Hinata licks his lips. "Hmm. Well—maybe I'll help you get it. Since your ass belongs to me, now."

"That's the deal," Kageyama says, and _fuck_ if it doesn't sound like he's aching for it.

"Don't look so worried," Hinata says, as they get their cue to go on. "I think you earned the private show, don't you?"

Kageyama doesn't even dare look at him when he asks, "Naked?"

He hears Hinata laugh.

"Why not? It _is_ almost Christmas." ****

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [Multishipping at [Esselle](https://esselle.dreamwidth.org/) on Dreamwidth, [@esselley](http://esselley.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, [@Esselle_hq](https://twitter.com/Esselle_hq) on Twitter]


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